


An Altmer in the Land of Nords

by ParamnesiaGirl



Category: Elder Scrolls V: Skyrim
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2016-11-21
Updated: 2016-12-27
Packaged: 2018-09-01 07:19:24
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 3
Words: 9,088
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/8614783
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/ParamnesiaGirl/pseuds/ParamnesiaGirl
Summary: This is the story of a brave soul who vanquished the threat known as Alduin from the land of Skyrim, who rescued the Mage's College from certain ruin. The tale of an important woman who was adored by all, had a kind and courageous soul, who was respected throughout the nine holds and-Okay, I'm lying.I am not most of those things, in fact I'm pretty sure I'm wanted in Markarth, but we'll get to that later. Sure, I did some cool stuff, but let's face it, a lone Altmer woman who had just been proclaimed 'Dragonborn' after almost being executed isn't going to be in a good enough mood to be nice three-quarters of the time.





	1. Unbound - Part 1

So, want to hear a story eh? Well, I’ve got a good one for you.

This one, is about misadventures, magic and well, stuff like that. 

A hero, if you will, traveling through lands in search of artifacts from lost civilizations to discovering new ones. This hero, was adored by all, was respected throughout the nine holds and-

Okay fine, I’m lying.

In all actuality, the ‘hero’ of this story, is a short high elf with an efficacy for fireballs and frost spells and just so happens to also have been in contact with every single major deadra in Skyrim, although she still loves to ignore them in favour of her elven gods. She was also wanted in Markarth, but we’ll get to that later.

She was part of a family that came from where else, but Summerset Isles. The head of the family and father of our elf, was a high ranking general part of the Aldmeri Dominion, which most of you would know as the evil scum that tried to take over Skyrim, but I digress.

They were a family of five; three children, two boys, one girl, and their parents. They lived a prestigious life, sheltered from any harm. Well, that was until father dear decided that a move to Skyrim would be in order. It wasn’t really his fault actually, because the war had just been over and as a general, he would need to be present after the treaty for some random diplomatic reason.

Of course, Skyrim was a dangerous place, and after the war it wasn’t the best place for a family of high elves to stay at, but it wasn’t like they were going to be attacked and all slaughtered by the enemy while there right? Wrong.

On their first day there, the family decided to take a walk around the estate they were to be staying at when they were attacked by ‘bandits’. Everyone knew that it was probably the last few true Nords wanting to make a final stand but no one could ever prove it, certainly not the survivor of the incident, our heroine. On that fateful day, she had decided to be lazy and stay indoors with all her books, thus saving herself unknowingly.

In fact, she had been the one to discover her family’s murder as she had gone out at night to look for them but was only able to find what seemed to be the remnants of a battle. There were no bodies, but the stench was overpoweringly strong and flecks of blood were still visible despite the efforts of whoever tried to cover it up with fresh dirt. Her father’s dagger was found discarded about ten paces from the scene and after putting two and two together, the local authorities came to the conclusion that the whole family had been slaughtered.

After that incident, the army had a body-less funeral before sending the young girl, then only just in her teens, back to Summerset Isles, where she grew up under the care of her uncle, one of the king’s advisers. She became a learned woman and mage over due time, and quite the avid traveler too, but she never returned to Skyrim.

That was until she tried to cross the border to Hammerfell.

_ Present Day _

“Hey you?” Someone asked through my splitting headache, “Finally awake?”

“No, go away.” I was very used to responding with that line, though it was used to be reserved for my mother.

“You were trying to cross the border, right?” The owner of the voice was a young-ish man with blonde hair, his features screamed ‘Nord’ and to make things worse, he was wearing Stormcloak armour, “Got caught up in that Imperial Ambush, same as us. And that thief over there.” He motioned his head to point towards a black haired man in ragged clothes. It was then I realised my hands were bound.

“Damn you Stormcloaks,” the thief snapped at the blondie, making me like him immediately, “Skyrim was fine until you came along. Empire was nice and lazy. If they hadn’t been looking for you, I could’ve stolen that horse and been halfway to Hammerfell by now.”

Right, a thief, almost forgot about that fact.

 “You there; you and me, we shouldn’t be here,” added the thief, looking at me, “It’s these Stormcloaks the Empire wants.”

I could only scoff at his statement, he obviously didn’t think stealing was as bad as being a rebel, but he had to know that it was a crime nonetheless, and getting rid of a thief along with a couple of Stormcloaks would simply be a convenience for the Empire, then again Nords had the tendency to be this stupid thanks to their thick-headed skulls.

“We’re all brothers and sisters in binds now, thief.” Said the blondie.

Our Imperial driver, without so much as looking behind, snapped in a monotonous voice, “Shut up back there.” Poor guy probably wasn’t paid enough for this job.

“So what’s wrong with him?” Asked the thief, nodding towards the noble looking man with a gag over his mouth.

“Watch your tongue!” Ordered the Stormcloak, “You’re speaking to Ulfric Stormcloak, the true High King of Skyrim.”

“Ulfric? Jarl of Windhelm? You’re the leader of the rebellion!” Gasped the thief.

Being an Altmer, I could only grin like crazy at this sudden revelation, causing the ‘royal’ sap to glare daggers at me.

“But if they’ve captured you…by Talos…Where are they taking us?” The poor thief was frantically glancing between the Imperials and Ulfric, absentmindedly straining against the ropes that bound him.

“I don’t know where we’re going, but Sovngarde awaits,” answered the solider.

In my mind, I was silently laughing. These stupid Nords, thinking such a place like ‘Sovngarde’ awaits them. The only thing after death, is death. And besides, it wasn’t like I was going to join them on the block. I was an Altmer, daughter of the late general of the Aldmeri Dominion, they wouldn’t kill me, unless they wanted another war. They would soon realise it was all a huge misunderstanding and everything would be fine.

“No, no!” The thief seemed pretty stressed out now, “This can’t be happening! This isn’t happening!”

“Oh grow a pair and suck it up horse thief!” I couldn’t help but make at least one snide remark at this whining coward of a man.

The rest of the conversation was a blur to me, I caught a few words, such as ‘Rorikstead’ and ‘home’. Some things which I no longer had a concept of, since I had devoted my time to travelling through Tamriel. From High Rock to the Black Marsh, I had been through it all, but this was the first time in at least a decade that I’ve come back to Skyrim.

“What about you elf?”

I looked up, snapping out of my thoughts, and gave the Nord a questioning glance.

“Your name, stranger?”

“Irielle.” I decided to entertain the man, he was going to die soon after all, so pity wouldn’t be too out of place.

“Ralof, and the thief is Lokir, I’d shake your hand if we weren’t in binds.” He joked, to which I scoffed and turned to look over my shoulder at the scenery in an attempt to ignore them.

The place seemed exactly how it was when I left, overgrown trees and ferns left right centre, the occasional mine or cave off the pathway. Also not to mention the abundance of foxes, rabbits and other small creatures coming and going through the forests. We were lucky we didn’t encounter any wolves on the way, though I doubt that the Imperials wouldn’t be unable to handle some wildlife. 

It wasn’t long till the houses of Helgen came into view, the road becoming smoother as we progressed past the main gate.

“General Tullius, sir! The headsman is waiting!” One of the Imperials shouted out.

“Good, let’s get this over with.” The general replied and walked further in, to where I supposed the execution would take place. “Shor, Mara, Dibella, Kynareth, Akatosh. Divines, please help me.” The thief began rambling the names of any god or goddess he could think of, praying that divine intervention would save him.

“Look at him, General Tullius the Military Governor. And it looks like the Thalmor are with him. Damn elves. I bet they had something to do with this.” Ralof sneered at the sight of the elves before his expression softened at the sight of the houses of Helgen, “This is Helgen. I used to be sweet on a girl from here. Wonder if Vilod is still making that mead with juniper berries mixed in. Funny...when I was a boy, Imperial walls and towers used to make me feel so safe.” 

My ears perked up at the sound of ‘Thalmor’, surely they would see that this was a mistake and come to my aid! My escape was within grasps! 

“Who are they, daddy? Where are they going?” I looked behind me once again at a man and his son watching us pull into the town, the Nord child ever so curious. “You need to go inside, little cub.” The father tried to usher the child indoors, to which he was met with resistance.  

“Why? I want to watch the soldiers.” Ah yes, the admiration the boy had for the men in uniforms was visible, and I wondered what thoughts his father had on that. 

“Inside the house. Now.” The father’s voice was harsher as dragged the boy inside the house, slamming the door behind them. 

It was at this moment that the wagon began to come to a stop, and I could see the chopping block nearby, covered in dried blood from its previous users. The Imperial that had been driving our wagon halted the horse to a standstill and slid off the seat, coming ‘round to the back of the wagon to most likely unload its passengers. “Why are they stopping?” Lokir asked stupidly, to which Ralof answered before I could come up with another sarcastic remark. 

“Why do you think? End of the line. Let's go. Shouldn't keep the gods waiting for us.” With understanding of the situation now dawning upon him, Lokir’s face twisted into that of horror, and he tugged at his bindings in vain, struggling to get free, “No! Wait! We’re not rebels!”  
  
“Face your death with some courage, thief.” Ralof had a poker face on, expression unreadable, but his eyes were downcast and betrayed his feeling of despair. 

Slowly, we got down one by one, Ulfric first, escorted by two Imperials who kept their sights on him at all times, followed by Lokir, who got off reluctantly and was clearly panicked, eyes darting around to find an opening to escape. Next was Ralof, who threw off his crestfallen look and put on a face of pride as he jumped out, looking dead ahead.

I was the last, a feeling of unease set into the pit of my stomach and a hint of doubt crept into my mind that I wouldn’t be saved, however it was quickly replaced by the logic that the these Imperials wouldn’t be foolish enough to execute a high elf in front of the Thalmor dignitaries. So I wore my signature smirk and exited the wagon in confidence. 

“You've got to tell them! We weren't with you! This is a mistake!” Lokir tried one last ditch attempt to persuade his way to freedom, but no one payed him any heed. 

“Step toward the block when we call your name. One at a time!” An Imperial woman in a captain’s armor shouted out with her hands on her hips firmly. 

“Empire loves their damn lists.” Ralof commented with a whisper beside me. 

“Ulfric Stormcloak. Jarl of Windhelm.” Another Nord in Imperial armour carrying a board and quill called out, and Ulfric walked forward with bravado in his step, even in the face of death not flinching the slightest.  

“It has been an honour, Jarl Ulfric!” Ralof said proudly, and I was surprised the Imperials didn’t just shoot him with an arrow right there on the spot, or make some attempt to silence him. 

“Ralof of Riverwood.” The Stormcloak walked forward with the same bravery of his leader, “Lokir of Rorikstead.” 

The thief walked forward, but shouted, “No, I'm not a rebel! You can't do this!” At the Captain before breaking into a full sprint, past them and back the way the wagon came in from. 

“Halt!” The Captain shouted, but she was replied with a defiant “No, I'm not a rebel! You can't do this!” 

“Archers!” She shouted again. 

Several Imperials that lined the road readied their bows, and then quickly let them fly. I watched as the thief get shot down by an arrow that imbedded itself in his torso, then he promptly fell to the floor like a stone. 

The Captain turned her attention back to the remaining prisoners and I, “Anyone else feel like running?”  

The process quickly resumed, and the clipboard holding Imperial looked at me, guessing it was my cue, I walked forward and looked at them with the best innocent face I could come up with. 

“Wait, you there. Step forward. Who are you?” His wore a look of confusion, as he glanced between me and his list.

“Irielle Korwatch, daughter of the late _Sir_ Korwatch of the _Aldmeri Dominion_.” I emphasised the important words to try to suggest to them they were making a mistake without actually pointing it out. This was it, my freedom was close at hand! 

“You're not with the Thalmor Embassy, are you, high elf? No, that can't be right…” The man considered my words before turning to his superior, “Captain, what should we do? She's not on the list.” 

“You can’t execute me! Don’t I have rights? At least let me call someone!” I scowled at the unreasonable soldiers.  

“Who would you call, elf?” The captain asked. “Your dad.” I sent a bored face her way, and she scoffed at my daringness.  

“Forget the list. She goes to the block.” The Captain didn’t even so much as take a good look at me once more before dismissing the notion that I was not even supposed to be here. 

I felt my eyes almost bulge out of my skull, surely not all humans were this stupid, were they? I announce myself to be the daughter of their equivalent of a Jarl and somehow still gets put in with the common rabble. 

“By your orders, captain.” The man with the quill looked up at me with pity and conveyed with his gaze that he truly had no choice, “I'm sorry. We'll make sure your remains are returned to the Summerset Isle. Follow the Captain, prisoner.”  

I laughed nervously in my head, this must be a joke, a cruel joke by the gods or something, but I shall play along. I walked over to where the other prisoners were, by the block. It was now that the General Tullius made his appearance, surveying all of us with a gaze that made it seem we were below him. 

“Ulfric Stormcloak. Some here in Helgen call you a hero, but a hero doesn't use a power like the Voice to murder his king and usurp his throne.” The judgmental tone Tullius used was dripping with venom, and he was answered with the grunts of protest of Ulfric through his gag.  

“You started this war, plunged Skyrim into chaos and now the Empire is going to put you down, and restore the peace.”  

Yes, yes, restore the peace, blah, blah. However to me none of that mattered, since it became abundantly clear that I was about to be killed. Now I understood how Lokir felt, the panic rising in my throat at the knowledge that I, an innocent, was to be executed with a bunch of rebels to which I had zero relations to.  

The worst part? The Thalmor were here and doing nothing.

A distant sound rang down the mountainside, causing me to jerk my head upwards to face the sky, and I looked around for the source. Several others followed suit. 

“What was that?” The man from before, the Nord in the Imperial armour with the writing materials, asked no one in particular. 

“It’s nothing, carry on.” The General reassured his startled men, wanting to get on with the execution.  

“Yes, General Tullius. Give them their last rites.” The Captain cued the Priestess off the side, and she raised her hands up in prayer. 

“As we commend your souls to Aetherius, blessings of the Eight Divines upon you, for you are the salt and earth of Nirn, our beloved—“The Priestess of Arkay was cut off as soon as she said the first sentence of the rites by a redheaded Stormcloak, who walked up boldly to the block. 

“For the love of Talos, shut up and let’s get this over with.” I rolled my eyes at his cockiness, which wasn’t going to last much longer anyways. 

“As you wish…” The priestess let him take his place before departing.  

“Come on, I haven't got all morning.” The man taunted his captors, trying to get the last laugh in I supposed, as the Captain pushed him to his knees and he lay his head on the curved part of the block,” My ancestors are smiling at me, Imperials. Can you say the same?” 

He was quickly silenced by the swift blow of the headman’s axe, which took his head clean off from his shoulders with a sickening squelch, blood spurted out from where his neck used to be, staining the ground a dark red. 

“You monsters!” 

“Justice!”

“Death to the Stormcloaks!” 

These were some of the reactions heard from the onlookers, some made by the other Stormcloaks, and others by the villagers who had gathered to watch this grisly scene. 

Ralof from my side sadly said, “As fearless in death as he was in life.” 

I was now this close to running for my life, the only thing keeping me from fleeing was the alert guards not too far from me, and definitely in shooting range. Being a mage, I had tried to burn off the ropes with my hands, but to no avail as they were suffering a terrible constriction due to the tight knots on my bindings, so magic was a no go. 

Therefore, the one way I could escape right now was if there was a miracle. 

“Next, the high elf!” I heard the captain shout. 

A thousand thoughts ran through my mind, would this really be how I die? At a chopping block in my least favourite nation? Amongst strangers and enemies to my kind? For a crime I did not commit and a captain’s laziness to check through her prisoner list? 

I took a single solidity step forward, my legs feeling like jelly that could collapse and fail me at any moment. I felt a chill run through my body, but wasn’t sure if it was due to the cold or my nerves. 

A shrill cry rang through the mountainside once more, sounding much closer and somewhat like…a roar…? 

“There it is again. Did you hear that?” The solider from before sounded much more worried than when we heard the sound previously. “Please this must be a mistake! Surely you wouldn’t execute someone under the protection of the Thalmor!” I tried to reason, but my cries fell on deaf ears, though the guards did exchange skeptical looks. 

“I said, next prisoner!” The Captain sounded now more frustrated than ever. “To the block, prisoner. Nice and easy.” The solider reassured me, but his words did nothing as my legs seemed to move on their own, one foot placing itself in front of the other slowly till I reached the block. 

I placed my head on the block, trying my best to avoid the still wet blood, but felt it cold on the ground from the previous victim as my knees sank into the damp dirt. I blinked the tears out of my eyes, because if I was going to die, I would die without showing these idiots any weakness. 

Then I noticed it, in the corner of my eye, a large black figure swooping over the southern peaks of the mountains, maneuvering with ease past the trees, barreling towards Helgen at top speed, soaring through the skies no less! 

I thought my eyes deceived me, but no, as the figure got closer, I realized, it really was…a dragon! 


	2. Unbound - Part 2

“What in Oblivion is that?!” Tullius had also noticed it, and was equally as shocked.

“Sentries! What do you see?” The Captain tried to take charge of the situation, ordering her men immediately.

“It’s in the clouds!” One of them shouted from a watch tower, sounding scared for his life.

“Dragon!” A Stormcloak woman cried out as the scaly beast landed itself on one of the watch towers, surprising everyone.

From my terrible vantage point, I witnessed the dragon take a deep breath, or something similar to it anyways, and ‘shouted’. The sky turned to a weird shade for an instant, and my executioner fell with an ‘nngh!’ sound, dropping his blade just shy of my head.

I heard the general shouting amidst all the confusion, “Don't just stand there, kill that thing! Guards, get the townspeople to safety!” Even in the panic, he was able to rise up to the occasion, but I shook my head, for it was no time to be admiring anyone.

“Hey, high elf. Get up! Come on, the gods won't give us another chance!” Ralof came for me, hoisting me up to my feet and gesturing his hand to a tower. Shelter. 

I heard a sharp ringing in my ears as we both sprinted at break neck speeds towards the open door of the tower, and I could see all the other Stormcloaks, including Ulfric, gathered inside.

“Jarl Ulfric! What is that thing? Could the legends be true?” Ralof was still somewhat calm as compared to some of the other men, but Ulfric looked completely unfazed, if not only a little worn out.

“Legends don't burn down villages. We need to move, now!” The Jarl commanded, to which Ralof nodded in understanding and turned his attention to me.

“Up through the tower. Let's go! This way, friend! Move!” And I followed his suit as he ran up the winding stairs of the watch tower, but we found that the very top was sealed with rubble.

A single Stormcloak was desperately moving the broken stones to the best of his ability, tossing them aside with all his strength, “We just need to move some of these rocks to clear the way!”

He reached for another rock, but suddenly the dragon glided by the tower, breaking through the stone wall as if it were paper and blasting hot flames everywhere, scorching the poor man. Ralof and I narrowly avoided the heat, shielding our faces by turning away.

“Get back!” Ralof shouted above the noise.

The dragon made a noise that sounded a lot like ’toor shul’, before once again flying away using those muscular wings to cause more destruction elsewhere.

We surveyed the damage when it left, and Ralof came up with a solution to our predicament. “See the inn on the other side? Jump through the roof and keep going! Go! We'll follow you when we can!” He yelled at me.

So I closed my eyes and ran, jumping off the ledge at the last second and landing in the burning house with a hard landing. I rolled to my side, and for a moment felt dazed, before the hotness from the still burning embers amongst me brought me back to the present.

I used my feet to push me off the ground, and I was running once again, ducking and diving through the falling wood from the roof of the buildings and narrowly avoiding the fire on the floor.

“Haming, you need to get over here now! Thataboy. You're doing great! Torolf! Gods...everyone get back!” The list-bearer from before was directing some refugees, ushering them to safety to the best of his ability. 

The dragon flew above our heads, raining down more fire from his jaws. It scorched the land and a couple unlucky people. Their bodies reduced to ashes and charred corpses in mere seconds, any way to identify them, gone.

“Still alive, prisoner? Keep close to me if you want to stay that way. Gunnar, take care of the boy. I have to find General Tullius and join the defence.” The list-bearer saw me and managed a smile at my survival despite the anarchy surrounding us.

“Gods guide you, Hadvar.” The man called Gunnar told the man, giving him a pat on the shoulder before he ran off with the child from before.

I followed Hadvar as we ran to safety, him shouting for me to stay close to the wall as another blast of flames appeared not too far from us, the dragon perching itself on the wall next to us. Quickly, we dodged by taking cover, but I saw the fires roast another poor soul.

I heard it again, the sound of the dragon almost speaking as he continued his attack, saying words that sounded like ‘vol toor shul’, before flying off once again.

“Quickly, follow me!” Hadvar called out to me as we both coughed from the noxious fumes produced by the flames and the burning bodies.

We managed to reach the main gate’s carnage by some miracle, and soldiers were littered everywhere with no set positions, firing arrows at the dragon in vain.

“Tell my family I fought bravely!” A woman who lay on the ground bleeding half shouted half cried out in pain. It was not hard to see why, her stomach had a deep gash and as a healer, I knew that she was beyond saving.

General Tullius was leading the charge against the dragon giving directions for his men, when he saw us, he widened his eyes, as if surprised to see we still breathed.

“Hadvar! Into the keep, soldier, we're leaving!”

“It's you and me, prisoner, stay close!” Hadvar turned briefly to make sure I was still there, slight relief in his expression told me he was glad I too made it.

The cries of the men and women fighting the demonic beast could be heard around me, some shouted threats and proclamations that they would bring down the dragon, perhaps to comfort themselves, and others voiced their worries at their inability to bring it down at all. Extremely contradictory comments. 

When we neared the keep, I could see a familiar figure, Ralof.

“Ralof! You damned traitor, out of my way!” Hadvar shouted at his kinsman, to which he got a reply.

“We're escaping, Hadvar! You're not stopping us this time.” Ralof glared with murderous intent at the Stormcloak.

“Fine. I hope that dragon takes you all to Sovngarde.” Hadvar ignored him, turning to me and saying, “With me, prisoner! Let's go! Come on! We need to get inside!” 

Ralof too said something similar, commanding me more than anything, “You, come on! Into the keep!”

Both than ran off in completely separate directions. In that instant I realised I had to choose who to follow, and seeing as how my choices were a Stormcloak rebel with probably minimal knowledge of the place at best versus an Imperial trained solider who had worked at Helgen, I made my decision easily enough. 

I followed the Nord into our temporary safe haven, and after we closed the door behind us, I nearly collapsed in exhaustion. It wasn’t very often I ran as much as I did despite being a self-proclaimed ‘adventurer’. I blame that on my reliance on magic.

“Looks like we're the only ones who made it. Was that really a dragon? The bringers of the End Times? We should keep moving. Come here. Let me see if I can get those bindings off.” I stuck my hands out to Hadvar and he sliced through them with a swipe of his dagger, which he then sheathed once again, “There you go. Take a look around, there should be plenty of gear to choose from. I'm going to see if I can find something for these burns. You better get that armour on. Give sword a few swings, too.” He referred to the dead solider lying with his sword out as if he was fighting when he died.

I undressed the man quickly and took of the scratchy ragged clothes I was made to wear from before. Hadvar kindly turned away as I did so, ever the gentleman. The outfit was for a man, but it would have to do. It was slightly loose fitting, and extremely heavy as the mage robes or fur armour I would usually wear, but I simply decided to grind and bear it until we were out of danger. 

I also grabbed the sword, the cool metal feeling heavy in my hands, and swung it about randomly, cutting the air. It wasn’t as if I had never used a sword before, but as I had said before, I was more used to making use of arcane fire and frost to dispatch any enemies. 

“Let's keep moving. That thing is still out there. Come on, this way.” We walked to a sealed exit, it was at this moment when we heard voices down the hallway.

“We need to get moving! That dragon is tearing up the whole keep!” One voice chided someone.

“Just give me a minute...I'm out of breath...” The other was panting while he spoke, both probably just entered after running away from the death and destruction outside.

“Hear that? Stormcloaks. Maybe we can reason with them.” Hadvar considered, and as the rebels walked through to where we were, he held out his hands with opened palms, a gesture of good will, “Hold on now, we only want to...”

Without a word, both drew their swords, although I have no idea where they got them from since all weapons were confiscated when we were arrested. In response, Hadvar drew his blade as well, and I held mine unsteadily with one hand as I prepared to cast a fire spell if needed.

“If you want to die, so be it.” 

What happened next was a blur. One of the Stormcloaks swung his blade first, but Hadvar parried it expertly, thrusting almost instantly at the man, who jumped backwards to dodge. 

The other Stormcloak charged at me with a cry, swinging the sword wildly. I barely managed to avoid all the attacks being thrown my way. As she took a step back to recover, I seized the opportunity to blast her with a gout of flames. 

She held her sword up to her face foolishly, as if metal could block out the heat. When her skin came into contact with the fire, she gave a yell and dropped her sword like a hot coal, clutching her now burnt arm.

The smell of burnt flesh filled the room as I held my sword with both my hands and charged forward at the stunned woman. My blade found itself sliding easily into her chest, and with a gurgled cry she fell to the ground, dead.

I turned to hear a thump behind me and saw that Hadvar had too dispatched his opponent without much fuss. He produced a cloth from his pocket and wiped the sword clean of blood, then tossed it to me and I followed suit, though I pulled it out of the woman’s bodice first.

“That's the end of that. Let's see if I can get that door open.” Hadvar unlocked the door with a simple twist of a key, and we walked through it down the hallway.

We continued onwards, down the stairs and further into the keep, till as we walked down another hallway, the celling collapsed and dust rose from the debris. 

“Look out!” Hadvar, who was now behind me, shouted just a moment before it fell in warning, “Damn. That dragon doesn’t give up easy.”

Seeing as how we could no longer take that route, we opted to take the door on our left instead, and as soon as we walked through the door, I heard voices from inside.

“What are you doing? We need to get out of Helgen now!” One hissed at a second party with a whisper.

“The Imperials have potions in here. We're going to need them.” The other answered.

Stealthily, Hadvar and I walked slowly through the room, keeping tabs on the two Stormcloaks not too far from us.

“An old storeroom. See if you can find some potions. Might come in handy.” Hadvar whispered to me, and I nodded back, grabbing the few healing potions on the shelves, and those that were in some of the barrels that lined the interior of the room.

Hadvar waited for me to ransack the room at the door, and upon seeing I was done, gestured that we should go, “Done then? This way!”

I put on a sly grin, “Didn’t they teach you that patience is a virtue between all that training to become a solider?” 

He rolled his eyes at me and walked ahead first, heading down the stairs, I soon caught up to him and we both progressed through the keep. It wasn’t before long when we heard yells however, someone shouting war cries and another voice shouting what sounded a lot like ‘Stormcloak scum’.

We bolted down the stairs to find two men in Imperial armour fighting off the two Stormcloaks from before, the sound of metal against metal ringing out in the small space.

Of course, Hadvar joined the fight, but I decided against drawing my blade again and instead began to cast healing spells, healing the three men as they fought off the rebels.  
Soon, the battle was over, and the only dead were those in blue uniforms.

It was now that I took a look at where we were. The chains and cages as well as blood splatters all over the room, most not at all fresh, told me this place was none other than a torture room.

“A torture room. Gods, I wish we didn't need these...” Hadvar said softly, and I agreed with his sentiments, although these things were needed in times of war.

“You fellows happened along just in time. These boys seemed quite upset at how I'd been entertaining their comrades.” The man in a leather hood that we saved chuckled as if we were sharing a joke, I assumed he was the torturer and immediately took a dislike to him. Not as if the stench of unwashed blood coming out in fumes from him would give me a chance to like him the first place.

Hadvar spoke next, “Don't you even know what's going on? A dragon is attacking Helgen!” 

The old man laughed heartily with his arms folded, “A dragon? Please. Don't make up nonsense...” Then his expression changed to one that told me he was considering the possibility of this wild tale, “Although, come to think of it, I did hear some odd noises coming from over there.” 

“Come with us. We need to get out of here.” My companion tried to reason with the old sod.

However, he cockily replied, “You have no authority over me, boy.” Ah yes, it was these moments in life that led me to think humans had stupidity beyond redemption. 

“Didn't you hear me? I said the keep is under attack!”

“Forget the old man.” A gruff voice entered the conversation, and I identified the owner of it to be the second man we rescued, a goliath of a man that was twice the size of me, “I'll come with you.”

“Well the more the merrier I guess.” I grinned at the man, comforted to know that this giant would be with us, we could sure use his fighting prowess after all.

Hadvar squinted his eyes at a cage at the back of the room, “Wait a second, it looks like there’s something in this cage.”

I approached the metal structure and peered into it through the bars, “Is that…a spell book?”

“Don't bother with that. Lost the key ages ago. Poor fellow screamed for weeks.” The torturer laughed but it turned into a cough at the end, the dust and lack of sunlight down in the dungeon was probably getting to him, well, that and his old age.

“See if you can get it open with some picks. We'll need everything we can get.” Hadvar stated that to me so plainly, as if he expected me to already know how to work a lock. However I digress, I did know how to pick a lock. 

There was a satchel on the side, and I grabbed it and rummaged through its contents. Grunting in triumph as I produced a hand full of lockpicks. Since the torturer didn’t seem to mind and neither did his assistant, I skipped over to the cage and inserted one of the picks. With a few seconds of twisting and fiddling, the lock sprang open and I reached inside to grab the spell book as well as the few septims and what seemed to be a potion of minor magicka, depositing the items into the satchel.  
“Sure, take all my things. Please.” The torturer sarcastically said, and I found myself wondering if it would be such a crime if I locked him in a cage.

“Grab what you can and let’s go.” Hadvar tried to rush me. Maybe the atmosphere of the room was getting to him?

Then an idea came to me, “Gentlemen if you will all be so kind as to turn around so I can swap this stuffy uniform for something better suited for a mage such as myself?” 

I didn’t wait for a reply and started taking the mage robes off the dead man, then once again began to undress, but checking if all three men were first turned around. Thankfully, the two torturers still had a sense of decency, and I already knew Hadvar would not even dare.w

When I had finally put on the robes, I could already feel enchantments bound into the clothing begin to strengthen me, the familiar tingle of magicka flowing in my blood. It felt much better than any heavy armour, that’s all I could say.

I put the hood on, and cleared my throat to signal that they could look. Hadvar curiously asked when he saw my new outfit, “You’re a mage?”

I raised an eyebrow at the Nord, “Oh heavens no! I simply put on this garb because I felt now was a good time to try on some new fashions! A woman’s needs? You know?”

The man sputtered out a half-baked response and simply walked on ahead, the assistant giving me a small smile as he followed. I too went along, after throwing the armour I had been wearing previously into the cage.

“There's no way out that way, you know...” The Torturer made one finally comment, and this time, I turned around to face him and stuck a tongue out at him, making him scrunch up his face in disgust.

We proceeded further down, killing off any stray Stormcloaks in the way. When I say ‘we’, I mean Hadvar and the assistant did all the killing, I simply continued to heal them all the way. 

Eventually, we made our way into a cavern, water gushing out from a hole in the celling, a small stream and waterfall being made from this. The ground shook around us, and I assumed it was the dragon still increasing the death toll above. Shuddering in fear, I was glad for the safety of the cave. 

We followed the water, coming to a large cavern that was covered in spider webs.

Now in the past, I would read books about various creatures as part of my alchemical training. Ingredients always needed gathering and many of the creatures that these alchemical components came from were dangerous, so one had to always be aware of what to avoid to be safe.

And to me, the presence of a large cluster of spider webs in a cold damp environment such as this could only mean one thing.

“Get down!” I pushed Hadvar to the ground just in time as a green-ish blue solution came flying our way, passing over our heads and landing with a splat.

The torture assistant, wasn’t as lucky, and he got the same liquid fired onto his face, and he screamed and fell to the ground.

Ah yes, one of Skyrim’s more annoying creatures, the Frostbite Spider. 

With their lethal toxins, they incapacitate their victims with the freezing agents inside, before proceeding to wrap them in their sticky web and leaving them up to hang for as long as several months. Before bringing them down, draining their blood until they are but a hollow shell, and them sometimes devouring them if the spider if hungry enough.

Thankfully, although these spiders were usually gigantic, these seemed to be on the smaller scale and Hadvar and I killed them off fast. Between my flame spells and his sword, they were felled quickly.

‘What’s next? Giant snakes?” Hadvar joked, earning himself a laugh from me.

“I hope not, I’ve already had my fill of reptiles today.” Now he laughed as we continued on through the damp cave system.

Not too far from where we killed the spiders, the cave opened up into a bigger alcove once again, and my eyes immediately caught sight of a large black mass over by what seemed to be the exit, judging by the sunlight pouring through.

“Hold up. There's a bear just ahead. See her? I'd rather not tangle with her right now.” Hadvar pointed at the bear, “We might be able to sneak by. Just take it nice and slow, and watch where you-“  
He didn’t even finished his warning before I charged at the bear with fire in hand, screaming bloody murder. I could swear I heard my Nord companion sigh deeply before drawing his sword and joining me. 

The beast awoke from its slumber slowly, then proceeded to let out its own roar before charging with teeth bared at me.

I blasted flames into its snout, and it recoiled in pain, pawing its snout and stopping in its tracks, giving Hadvar enough time to charge forward in front of my and stab the hairy beast in the neck. The bear stood on its hind legs, groaning, before slumping forward, dead.

Both of us panted, and I leaned against the cave walls, a little bit exhausted from using so much mana at once. 

Hadvar recovered faster than me and decided to scout ahead. When he came to the where the light was streaming through in rays, he pointed and shouted back at me and beckoned, “This looks like the way out!” So I walked over to him, still breathing fairly heavily, and could see the daylight coming into the cave from the exit.

“I was starting to wonder if we'd ever make it.” He went out first, and I soon followed.

I felt the cold harsh winds of Skyrim blast my face the moment we exited, and I could smell the scent wild flowers all around us. True enough, I could spot a bunch of them growing down the path.

“Wait!” Hadvar exclaimed suddenly and dragged me down behind a rock. 

We crouched uncomfortably and watched as the dragon from before fly overhead, flying away from Helgen, probably to cause chaos somewhere elsewhere. 

“Looks like he's gone for good this time. But I don't think we should stick around to see if he comes back. Closest town from here is Riverwood. My uncle's the blacksmith there. I'm sure he could help you out. It's probably best if we split up. Good luck. I wouldn't have made it without your help today.” He looked like he wanted to walk off before turning back to face me once again and speaking, “Listen, you should go to Solitude and join up with the Imperial Legion. We could really use someone like you. And if the rebels have themselves a dragon, General Tullius is the only one who can stop them.” 

“You are aware the Imperial Legion, tried to kill me not more than an hour ago right?” I cocked an eyebrow at him and folded my arms, to which he gave me a sheepish expression in response and coughed. 

“Ah yea, sorry about that.”

We both walked on the uneven stone path, Hadvar playing tour guide and pointing out various things to me on the way.

“See that ruin up there? Bleak Falls Barrow. When I was a boy, that place always used to give me nightmares. Draugr creeping down the mountain to climb through my window at night, that kind of thing. I admit, I still don't much like the look of it.” 

Already the name was creepy, and I felt a shiver go up my spine at the sight of it.

“These are the Guardian Stones, three of the thirteen ancient standing stones that dot Skyrim's landscape. Go ahead, see for yourself.” He gestured to the stones at the corner of the path.

I approached one with caution, running my fingers over the carvings on each one. There was a warrior, thief, and mage. Obviously, I choose the mage stone, a glowing light appearing in the tiny round gap in the stone that fired up a beam of blue into the sky. So bright that it was clearly visible even against the brightness of the sun.

“Mage, eh? Well, to each his own. It's not for me to judge.” Hadvar shrugged and walked on, and I was reminded of the fact that Nords frowned upon magic. My elven seniors back at the Summerset Isles told me this was because they were too simple minded to make sense of it and thus discarded magic as something evil. However, I was aware that there was a mages college somewhere in Skyrim, and I made a note in my head to visit it as soon as possible.

“Listen, as far as I'm concerned, you've already earned your pardon. But until we get that confirmed by General Tullius, just stay clear of other Imperial soldiers and avoid any complications, all right? I'm glad you decided to come with me. We're almost to Riverwood.” He reminded me as the huts of Riverwood came into view. And I found myself counting myself lucky that I had a reliable guide to bring me to Riverwood, which I probably wouldn’t have found on my own. I also found myself wondering what would have happened if I had gone with Ralof.

Speaking of Ralof, I wondered if he was still alive. 

I shook off the notion, already Hadvar and I were extremely fortunate to have gotten out alive, but a single Nord man, barely armed trying to escape? Impossible.

“We’re here.”


	3. Before The Storm

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Irielle and Hadvar finally make it to Riverwood, and meet up with his uncle, who now issues our heroine with an important task

Riverwood was to be honest, a really boring place.  
The people were mostly normal, and it had everything a normal Nord town should have. Terribly constructed wooden houses, a straw roof and a fireplace inside which honestly increased the chances of the whole house burning by about ten percent.  
It was a wonder you didn’t see more screaming townspeople and forest fires in Skyrim, but then again maybe it was so cold that fires couldn’t even start in the first place.  
“Things look quiet enough here. Come on, there's my uncle.” Hadvar looked excited when he saw a middle aged man in a blacksmith apron, working the Riverwood forge, “Uncle Alvor! Hello!”  
“Hadvar? What are you doing here? Are you on leave from...? Shor's bones, what happened to you, boy? Are you in some kind of trouble?” The blonde covered in soot narrowed his eyes at me suspiciously, probably thinking I’m some kind of Thalmor agent, knowing Nords.  
“Shh, uncle. Keep your voice down. I'm fine, but we should go inside to talk.”  
“What's going on? And who's this?” I could have sworn in that moment Alvor was about two seconds away from grabbing that giant warhammer on his back and smacking my head clean off.  
“She's a friend. Saved my life in fact.” Cue awkward silence with Alvor squinting his eyes at me like I was so short that he couldn’t see me anymore, “Come on, I'll explain everything, but we need to go inside.”  
“Okay, okay. Come inside, then. Sigrid will get you something to eat and you can tell me all about it.”  
He ushered us into the house discreetly, and off the side I could hear an old woman being scolded by her son for being crazy or something because she saw dragons. I flashed her a sad smile, which she didn’t see, but that’s okay because I’ll probably beat up her smug son later.  
~  
“Sigrid! We have company!” Alvor announced when we entered the front door, and a slender red headed Nord woman dressed in simple peasant clothes walked up the stairs at the end of the house. Her face was covered in soot just as her husband was, and she sported a surprised but relieved expression upon our entrance, a small gasp escaping her.  
“Hadvar! We've been so worried about you! Come, you two must be hungry. Sit down and I'll get you something to eat.” She gestured for us to take a seat before hurrying to get some food for her unexpected guests.  
“Now, then, boy. What's the big mystery? What were you doing, looking like you lost an argument with a cave bear?” Alvor, too sat down and asked.  
I chuckled a little, “That’s, well, sort of one part of the story honestly.”  
Both men then simultaneously turned to look at me, Hadvar with an expression that told me this was definitely not the time, and Alvor with confusion.  
“I’ll just…shut up now…” Looking downwards, I suddenly found my feet very interesting.  
Hadvar sighed and began telling the story of our escape, “I don't know where to start. I was assigned to General Tullius's guard. We were stopped in Helgen when we were attacked...by a dragon.”  
“A dragon? That's...ridiculous. You aren't drunk, are you, boy?” Alvor leaned back in his seat in shock, and Sigrid, who was coming up the stairs, dropped the plate she was holding, the few food items that were on it scattered all over the steps.  
“Husband, let him tell his story.” She said amongst the silence that sat heavily in the atmosphere of the room.  
“Not much more to tell. This dragon flew over and just wrecked the whole place. Mass confusion. I don't know if anyone else got out alive. I doubt I'd have made it out if not for my friend here. I need to get back to Solitude and let them know what's happened. I thought you could help us out. Food, supplies, a place to stay.” Hadvar condensed the story into a few sentences.  
“What? Not going to tell tales of our adventures through the Helgen Keep?” I tried to joke and smile to lighten the tension, but was shot down with another lethal stare from Hadvar.  
Alvor coughed, breaking his piercing glare, before saying with the hearty voice of a true Nord, “Of course! Any friend of Hadvar's is a friend of mine. I'm glad to help in any way I can. Like I said, I'm glad to help.” He then turned to me suddenly, addressing me directly, “But I need your help. We need your help. The Jarl needs to know there's a dragon on the loose. Riverwood is defenceless... We need to get word to Jarl Balgruuf in Whiterun to send whatever soldiers he can. If you'll do that for me, I'll be in your debt.”  
The man smiled at me with actual relief, before all our attention was turned to the sound of someone running up the stairs.  
“Hadvar, did you really see a dragon? What did it look like? Did it have big teeth?” To my surprise, a small blonde Nord girl came into view, bouncing up and down with uncontained excitement. Her hair and eye colour told me immediately that she was the child of Alvor and Sigrid.  
“Hush, child. Don't pester your cousin.” Sigrid was still too out of it to even restrain her child, even though she looked like the strict type of mom.  
“Well, I better get back to work. You two can make yourselves at home.” Alvor stood up and hugged his wife and pat his daughter on her head before walking out the door. I suppose that work was one way one could distract themselves from such news.  
When he left, Sigrid gave us a nod before beckoning her daughter to her and both then disappeared downstairs.  
Hadvar looked at me, contemplating what he wanted to say before actually saying, “It's nice to be back in a friendly spot, huh?” I nodded at him with a small smile in response, “Listen, I'm going to lay up here for awhile. You can make your own way to Solitude from here. I recommend heading to Whiterun, just down the road from here. From there you can take a carriage to Solitude.”  
“Got it.” I answered, gathering the few supplies Alvor left for us and stuffing them into whatever pockets I had and the small pouch that came with the mage robes before going to the door.  
Just before I exited, I found myself feeling slightly sentimental, so I turned around, “Hey Hadvar?”  
“Yes?” He was munching on a piece of bread, so his voice sounded muffled. As nobility, I should have been disgusted, but instead found myself to be unaffected by it. Perhaps Skyrim was influencing me?  
“Do you think our paths will cross again?” I had come to enjoy this man’s company, maybe a near death experience would do that to you. But also maybe since he was the first friend I’ve had in a long time, if you could even call him that.  
Hadvar swallowed the mouthful of bread he had before flashing me a toothy grin and setting down the loaf.  
“Count on it, Irielle.”

It would have seemed, that I had made my first ally.


End file.
